Change Never Changes
by Ryden and Xephfyre
Summary: A one-shot piece for CrapPishh's fanfic challenge - it covers the reflections of a Sentinel within Orbis' tower, reflecting upon the present and how it has changed in accordance to the past. Rated T to be on the safe side.


Disclaimer: Don't own no nothing.

* * *

A/N: This fic here is for CrapPissh's fic challenge – Part A, to be precise.

The requirements: Write a poem or oneshot about the life of a maplestory monster. The choice of monster is up to you, but the fic has to be set in one of the following places: Aqua Road (excluding the dungeon), or Orbis. Note that for Orbis tower, only monsters on 8th floor and above are allowed. Anything below is classified as El Nath. The monster also has to be one that is general to all versions of Maple; it cannot be exclusive to either SEA or Global.

Here's my take on it: The story will take place through two different Sentinels' POVs, a Sentinel from one time period, and another different Sentinel from another time period. The time periods, though different, are set during the 'Guild War' in The Lone Crusader – you could say that it occurs in the same universe, but it will feature next to nothing about the main characters. This is just a minor oneshot.

_EDIT: Changed my original idea. Instead of setting it from the POV of two Sentinels, I changed it to just one Sentinel, since writing just about one Sentinel was enough to get my general idea across, so the other Sentinel was unnecessary._

* * *

_Some things in the world never change._

The Sentinels have been patrolling the corridors of the tower for centuries now. Their creators, extinct long before the rise of the Wise Men's civilization, had entrusted them with the safeguarding of this tower, and they had tirelessly carried out their duties for as long as any sentient, organic creature that had encountered them could remember.

Colossal machines, invisible but present, had churned endlessly within the depths of the tower, constantly providing a flow of fresh Sentinels to guard the tower. A freshly assembled one would promptly replace any Sentinel that fell in combat against intruders. The machines were so well hidden that even within dozens centuries, no living being had ever discovered them.

Newly assembled Sentinels, always marked at Junior grade, would have to survive three months of duty before returning to the machine that had constructed it, to receive upgrades and ascend to the level of a regular Sentinel. Regular Sentinels that performed exceptionally would receive further upgrades to either a Fire or Ice Sentinel – the type of upgrade depended totally on the number of Fire and Ice Sentinels already operational at the time.

Everything that the Sentinels saw, heard, and felt, every bit and piece of information was uploaded to a central server and archived there, housed within a massive computer that was just as well hidden as the machines that constructed the Sentinels. Every Sentinel had access to the archived data, right up to the very moment that the computer had been first activated to begin keeping track of the Sentinels' activities.

The Sentinels were more than just drones controlled by their central computer – they were, each and every one of them, a sentient machine unto itself. They were more than capable of making decisions on their own, acting upon their own will, but their will was bound to the constraints of the main computer's programming – a markedly efficient method of making sure the Sentinels did not run amok, and always acted within the interests of guarding the tower.

One Sentinel, in particular, had been patrolling the fourteenth floor of Orbis tower for several months now. It had shared the responsibility of guarding this floor with several dozen other Sentinels for those past several months now, and intruders to the tower had ruthlessly destroyed many of those dozen Sentinels. This Sentinel had survived only due a particularly persistent subroutine within its programming – a subroutine that said 'live to fight another day'.

In other words, "run and hide when badly damaged".

The Sentinel was not a fool. Within its circuits thrummed a certainty – that someday, it would meet its end. But until that day came, it would continue to carry out its duties tirelessly.

For today in particular, the Sentinel was patrolling the fourteenth floor of the tower with five other Regular Sentinels. Intruder activity had been at a high the past few weeks – a higher level than had ever been recorded in history. Practically entire companies of intruders were storming up and down the tower's floors – the only thing all of them had in common was a triangular emblem of a black scorpion's tail set against a red background, each stenciled onto their clothing and emblazoned onto their equipment. They also wielded powers and weapons that had never ever been encountered before in all of their history – swords made entirely out of energy, magical staffs with bladed sections, thieves wielding two-handed swords, bowmen dual-wielding bayoneted crossbows…

_Some things in the world do change._

The Sentinel gave the mechanic equivalent of a human sigh, comparing last week's data with data from the same day and month, but from ten years ago.

Ten years ago was oh so much simpler. Warriors were warriors, bowmen were bowmen, mages were mages, and thieves were thieves. And Sentinel losses were significantly lower – much, much lower than the all-time high that they were at now. Only the occasional solitary intruder would pass through the tower's corridors, even more rarely traveling as a group.

The complete opposite was the stark truth for the present – rarely did only a single person intrude upon the tower. Nearly every time a Sentinel reported an intrusion, it would be at the very least a five-man team storming either up, or down the corridors, as though they owned the damned place.

A funny feeling pulsed through the Sentinel's circuits – a feeling resembling nostalgia. The Sentinel was smart enough to compare the two sets of data, and conclude that ten years ago was a much better period for the Sentinels than it was for them now. And it was sentient enough to actually miss the 'old days' – the days where the tower was so much quieter.

Unfortunately, the Sentinel had been caught up too much in its reflection that it never saw the shattered husks of its fellow guards lying in a corner, the shellpieces scattered here and there. Its only warning of impending doom was the triumphant cackle, and the ill-fated machine turned around just in time to see the manic expression of a laughing warrior in black armor wielding an energy sword.

The Sentinel had only enough time to process one last thought into its log before uploading it to the central server, and then it proceeded to be cut to pieces by the frenzied Death Knight, the dark warrior laughing maniacally all the way.

_"Some things in this world, while changing into different forms, just never change at the core."_

* * *

A/N: Yeah. As you can see, the main theme of the fic is Change. Well CrapPissh, hope this is good enough for your fic challenge. Now, I'm going to attempt to work on LC… I doubt I'll have much success. Until next time, readers…


End file.
